


There is madness in love

by mayafish



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, One Shot, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayafish/pseuds/mayafish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because - despite all believes - Loras is not gay. He just has an obsessive kind of very special fetish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is madness in love

 

He glared at the heavy oak door as if willing it to burst out in flames. Behind the old wood, he heard light chattering intermittent by joyous laughter, too quiet to understand the words but with a warm atmosphere that made his stomach squelch. He felt sick.

His grandmas lady consorts sounded much the same earlier this morning, when he had passed them by to answer Olennas summons and she made a great show out of asking him how he was becoming in Kingslanding, if his suite accommodated him, if he enjoyed the passings of the days and all these bloody things he didn't care about because Renly was dead and _he had loved him._

And then the Queen of Thorns calmly told him that he was to marry Sansa Stark within the next Moon and he had felt as if a part had been ripped from him all over again.

Olennas face had been stern and her eyes missing the merry twinkle that had filled them mere moments before and he realized... but hoped nevertheless. _This is cannot be real,_ he thought. _Please, don't let this be real,_ and _Renly. Renly. Renly._

But the relentless look he was bestowed with bore no room for opposition.

He should have given her an answer, which would have been courtly, but he could give no response.  
His teeth pressed together so tightly he couldn't part his lips at all, and the stinging burn of foreboding tears set his eyes ablaze. He refused to let them spill before the old witch’s gaze.  
A sharp intake of breath "Of course, grandma." and he stormed out of the room wishing himself alone and away.

 

Later, Margaery had come to his chambers, her voice soothing as she talked to him in her comforting and sensible manner.  
She held him close whilst he wept and combed her hand through his hair as he mourned his life crumbling away when he had yet to gather the pieces of his last breakdown.

But somehow here he found himself. In front of Lady Sansas door, about to ask her to accompany him for a walk in the garden.

How often had he stood in front of Renlys threshold like this? His lips curled. _Never._ Certainly not like this. There had been no hesitation with his handsome king. - _He should have been king._

Sansa Stark was no king. Would never be king. She was not Renly.

Loras put a fake smile on his face and lifted his hand to rap on the door. A handmaiden opened, and he forced his smile to become brighter.

"I'm here to accompany the Lady Sansa."

A breathy "Ser Loras." emitted from the other end of the room and he shifted his attention to it's owner.

Sansa Stark looked lovely. He could admit that much. She was dressed in a gown he hadn't seen her wearing before. The colour a soft fern wood green that drew attention to the red glow of her hair falling in gentle waves down her back.  
It also highlighted a similar hue appearing on her cheeks.  
He frowned and prayed to the Maiden the blush wouldn't get stronger, fearing she might look like a tomato on its stem. _Ripe for picking._  
He almost sneered.

"Is my Lady ready?" he asked.  
To his horror the blush deepened.

"I- Yes Ser Loras. I was pleased by your invitation." A soft voice. Brave eyes. Her gaze never wavering. Studying him.

"You look lovely." she whispered.

His eyes glazed over. _„You look lovely“, Renly said, when he hovered above him, staring down at his eyes, caressing his cheek in a gentle brush._  
He swallowed and took her arm to led her through the hallway.

"My Lady is too kind.", then added "And beautiful."

Was that perfume? Renly would have never worn it.  
Loras was finding it difficult to walk and talk and think at the moment. The sweet aroma of Lavender that lingered around her, almost sticky on his tongue, like over-ripened fruit, too sweet and overbearing sugary and slobbery, the kind that left you feeling sick.

The light touch of her hand burned his skin.

_Renlys touch had been firmer. Fingers digging into his flesh with possessiveness. Imprinting themselves on him._  
Loras still felt those hands ghosting over his body at night. _Feeling, fondling, probing..._  
 _A firm pressure on the base of his thighs, caressing upwards, determined. Pressure building deep inside him. A biting sting, teeth sinking, breaking tissue so very close to his loins. Lips sucking at the bristling bruise, soothing the burn with longing licks. A cool breath giving him shivers._

He could feel his cock stirring.

Suddenly brash pristine nails tore into his flesh and the vision shattered. He shuddered.

"Forgive me, Ser Loras." Sansa stammered appalled.

She had staggered, Loras realised. Her hold on him tighter than it had been before as she was trying to get back some sort of composure.

Without his notice they had made it outside. The deep hanging autumn sun hot on his face, both of them surrounded in greenery.  
Dark emerald shadows cast captivating illuminations on her features, changing the colour of her eyes from ice, to storm grey, to black, to green.

_Why must she always be reddening so?_ He unconsciously brought her body closer, urging her in the direction of one of the more secluded areas.  
It would be embarrassing to be seen with her when she appeared so flushed.

The silence between them as heavy as the thick green branches hanging above, soon the trees would be changing colours...

There was a cool breeze in the air and he enjoyed the wind combing through his hair. From the corner of his eyes he could see Sansa, her free hand tucking some auburn streaks behind her ear that took flight.  
He wondered if autumn would paint the leaves the same shade of colour as her locks.

 

"How do you feel about this?" he had the sudden need to know.

Her steady warmth - where her body had pressed close - leaving him when he turned towards her, guiding her shoulders to face him.

He bend his face to meet her shy gaze. _Cerulean._ Like a bright summer days sky at Highgarden.

She was startled, but although the question had been sudden, he didn't need to clarify what _this_ was, both of them too conscious of the affair.

"I'm very pleased that my Lord is blessing me with his favour." She responded, oddly shy in his presence.  
His eyes narrowed.

"Even though I know I'm not worthy of it." Words stumbled over her lips.

Words that made as much sense to him as this whole act they were now forced to play. He gave her a puzzled smile. She didn't see, too busy avoiding his eyes and playing with the hem of her sleeves. She was trying to hide from him.

Her shoulders tensed under his hands when he gave them a gentle squeeze. She felt soft in his grip, delicate and fragile.  
"Sansa."

"I- I'm a traitors daughter. My mother is a traitor and my brother is a traitor as well. I will stain you, my Lord. I am not worthy of your attention." she blurted and tried to take a step out of his arms.

He wouldn't let her.

Instead his grip on her tightened and his palms glided down her arms taking her nervous hands in his, cupping them firmly. She looked up at him then. And at this moment he couldn't compare her to Renly even if he had wanted to try.

"Mere nights ago, you were supposed to be queen." he told her in quiet comfort. "In your veins flows the blood of first men. The blood of _kings._ "

And for a brief second he imagined her - A regal queen, sitting on a throne of gold. Blinding. Dressed in finest silk, embroidered with golden roses. Cerulean eyes shining bright. Her pale skin exposing a rosy hue on her cheeks. Plump lips curling into a knowing smile. Hair framing her face in a halo of molten copper - and something _stirs._

"You should be queen." he whispered, closer to her now than he stood before. "If anything, it is I who does not deserve admiration."

Her eyes were transfixed on his, focusing, searching. "Margaery will be queen." she exhaled shallow, his own mouth greedily catching her breath, sucking the airy puffs deep in.

She was faintly trembling."You speak treason.", she murmured ashamed. His reply even more shocking.

"I would go to war for you." and he almost believed it. Blurring lines when at another time at another place similar words had been said.

He is falling, he knows it. Falling and drowning in this moment. Lured by the gentle breeze whispering alluringly sweet that this is right.  
Enchanted by her demure posture. The light of the shadows.  
Seduced by the slight sheen of sweat on her skin produced by the smouldering heat of the day, glazing her in a mysterious shine.  
Looking like glittering snow.

He is falling he realized, and he wants to. _He wants to._

His lips swept upon her in a reckless tumble. His fingers insistent, curling in her hair at the base of her neck.

_He must be mad._ Kissing her like this. But he couldn't stop, a pressing urgency consuming him.  
He moved his lips over hers, guiding, building. And she responded.  
His mouth opened,closed - her own mimicking his movements - and he was luring her into his dance.  
And when his tongue licked across her lips begging for entrance she gave.  
And he delved into her depths, _conquering._

There was a wet sucking sound when he tore his lips away from hers, ghosting peppering kisses down her neck.  


"People will love you" he breathed into the hollow of her neck, caressing her with his lips before he was sucking on her flesh until it bruised.

"They will love to serve you for your kindness" a kiss behind her ear, lips gliding across the shell and then engulfing her earlobe.

"They all want to be near you." He bit. Dragging the flesh with his teeth.

She was helpless in his onslaught, he knew. Her vulnerable sighs and gasps far too telling. But he needed her to know. Needed her to understand, so he forced himself away from her alluring arousal and waited until the mist in her eyes cleared and she was seeing him again.

His hands cradled her face, holding it at just the right angle. She couldn't look anywhere but him.

He held all of her attention.

"But it will be me beside you." He growled "Inside you."

And he crushed her body to his in a desperate embrace.

 

Sansa Stark would be his queen. He would make it so.

 

Queen of love and beauty.

 

This time he would make it right.


End file.
